


Back to Where It End

by nmichaelis



Series: Aftermath of the End [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Bilbo, M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nmichaelis/pseuds/nmichaelis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Took Family has always been close with the Dunedain and every member protected the identity of the King. Bilbo was introduced to Arathorn when both were in their twenties and they quickly became friends. The Dunedain taught him to fight and for over a decade, one could always be found where the other was. After Arathorn was initiated as Chieftain, Bilbo swore his loyalty to the Dunedain but he had to come back home after he was injured quite badly. He never left the Shire until a wizard and a troop of dwarrows invaded his home. It was to his Lord he returned immediately after the Battle of Five Armies and was years before Arathorn succeed in convincing the hobbit just to visit Dale, where soon he was found by his dwarrows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back to Where It End

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I ever write to finish. The sex scene might be terrible and I welcome anyone who wants to rewrite it better. If you want to give comment, please made it meaningful. Don't just 'this is good/bad' or 'i like/dislike this'. If that is your comment, please don't bother.

In the region of Rhovanion of Arda stood one mountain peak where dwarves of Durin’s Folk had lived within for a long time. The mountain was called the Lonely Mountain by the Common Tongue, or Erebor as known by the dwarves. A bit south of this dwarven realm was a city of Men, called Dale. The inhabitants of both Erebor and Dale were prosperous because of the mountain’s wealth. That is until the dragon Smaug came to claim the mountain as his own, burning the city of Dale to the ground on his way and forcing the dwarves and men to flee from their beloved home.  
  
It was only a century later a small company of dwarves – and one lone hobbit plus the often disappearing wizard – went on a quest – an impossible, suicidal one, many had said – to reclaim their mountain home. They succeed. The dragon was driven out of the mountain and killed by the descendant of the Lord of Dale, Bard. Unfortunately for everyone involved, what followed was not peace but instead madness inherent in a royal line, betrayal, banishment, and one of the greatest battle in the Third Age. At the end of the day – or the start of the day as dawn was breaking on the horizon when the battle ended – a lone hobbit went south to find his Lord with the blessing of a wizard.  
  
Five years after the so called Battle of Five Armies, Erebor and the newly rebuilt Kingdom of Dale have become almost as prosperous as it was a century ago. In this year anniversary of the battle, the King of Dale decided to use the occasion to celebrate the opening of the Central Market of Dale. People from far places visited the new kingdom for the week-long celebration. Merchants passed through to sell their wares, nobles visited for diplomatic reasons, travelers stopped by to join in the tournaments or inspect the new market.  
  
Among all these visitors was the very hobbit that helped the dwarves reclaim their mountain and traded all his gold with the current King of Dale. The missing hero who had been sung praises by the dwarves from the Blue Mountain to the Iron Hills, lauded by the men of Dale and Esgaroth, and called elf-friend by the elven king Thranduil. This hobbit just arrived in Dale with his companion three days before the start of the celebration.  
  
“Bard is doing a marvelous job with this place,” a cloaked figure commented to his companion as they walked pass bright-colored market stalls.  
  
The two were a contrast in height and both wore dark forest green cloak with the pin of the Dunedain ranger. The bare and large feet of the short figure identified him as a hobbit while the tall male was either a human or an elf.  
  
“Even just from your story, I think he is a natural leader although I’m still glad he seems to have used the gold wisely. You have always been a good judge of character.”  
Hidden under the hood, a wry smile twisted the hobbit’s lips. “Not always, Arathorn.”  
  
“Always,” the other repeated firmly, “The gold madness has always been inherent in the line of Durin and coupled with a dragon hoard, it can fell even the strongest of dwarves. That Ring you carried along might not help either.”  
  
“Alright, alright,” the hobbit replied with a resigned sigh, “Now what are we going to do? It would be suspicious if we ask around about the King Under the Mountain. Besides that, where are we going to stay?”  
  
“You should relax a bit, Bilbo. Just listens to the gossips and looks around for some souvenirs. I heard there will even be some competition, we can enter one or two of them.”  
  
Hazel eyes peered out of the hood to look up at the taller male with a suspicious frown. “You are too cheery. Why are you too cheery?”  
  
“I’m not. Dunedain don’t do cheery. We are grim and serious, never cheery,” the man muttered sulkily.  
  
Bilbo rolled his eyes at his partner’s childish response. For someone over fifty and responsible for his people, Arathorn could act as carefree as his young son. Actually, little Estel acted more mature than his father most of the time. It must be Gilraen’s influence, the hobbit silently decided.  
  
“Come on. We better find a place to stay before doing anything else.” Bilbo pushed through the throng after he spied a wooden sign of four-leaved clover and ‘Lucky Clover Inn’.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Kili was checking out some leather gloves sold in one of the stalls when something - or someone - caught his attention from his peripheral vision. His head turned so fast he almost got whiplash and when he recognized what he saw, he gaped for a moment before urgently calling his brother who was only two stalls down. He registered his brother's questioning call but didn't wait for his brother to reach him before he was off because the familiar figure was walking farther away.  
  
A thrum of mixed eagerness and anxiety propelled him through the mass, pushing others out the way with hurried apologies. His eyes trained on the short figure making his way swiftly through the packed street. He absently wondered how the hobbit could move so easily between so many people, especially with his small stature.  
  
One person shifted in front of him and suddenly he lost sight of his target. Desperation clawed in his chest as he continued forward and tried to spot the small form of their hobbit.  
  
"Mr. Boggins!" He shouted at the top of his lung, hoping the hobbit heard and stopped even for moment.  
  
It was FIli, who suddenly appeared beside him, that found their hobbit. His smile wide and eyes bright as he pointed somewhere to their left and there, mere meters from them was the familiar figure with head of dark gold hair and furry bare feet. Sharp hazel eyes were staring right at them with surprise and recognition.  
  
Kili took a step forward to launch himself at the hobbit but the thought of their last parting slammed into his mind like a sledgehammer. His step faltered and fear spiked through him at the dark thought that came unbidden.  
  
What if Bilbo hates them? They did nothing to stop Uncle, too far gone with gold lust to realize their mistake.  
  
And then Bilbo was smiling, eyes warm with understanding, and everything was alright. Kili ran forward with a laugh and hugged the hobbit tightly. His face nestled in soft, golden locks and he felt gentle hands settled around his shoulders.  
  
“Miss you,” he whispered shakily.  
  
“It has been a long time,” Bilbo agreed quietly.  
  
“We thought you died in the battle. No one had seen you after you killed Azog and you didn’t go back to the Shire,” Fili joined them and added for his brother, “Let him go. You are going to suffocate him.”  
  
“You are just jealous,” Kili muttered sulkily and tightened his hold for a moment before releasing the hobbit reluctantly.  
  
“No, I’m not. And it is good to see you again, Bilbo,” Fili clapped a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder.  
  
“Good to see you too, Fili,” Bilbo returned with a smile, “As you can see, I’m alive and healthy. I decided to travel after our adventure. Gandalf should know since he saw me before I left.”  
  
“Of course, the only one who knew hates out guts,” Kili groaned, “Uncle is a fool.”  
  
“Hate? Surely you are exaggerating,” Bilbo wondered. As long as he had known the Grey Wizard, never had he seen him showing hatred for anyone. Gandalf might grumbled a bit – alright, a lot – but he never hated.  
  
“Maybe hate is too strong a word but he is definitely angry at us, especially Uncle. He only spent some time to rest after the battle and left without a word, not even to the elves. We haven’t seen him since.”  
  
Bilbo merely smiled at Fili’s explanation. “Well, Gandalf does have a habit of going off in huff but he didn’t leave just because he was angry at you. He had something really important to discuss with Lord Elrond.”  
  
Fili looked at the hobbit contemplatively and opened his mouth to ask, but Kili cut him off. “Ugh, forget about that infuriating wizard! Where have you been if you didn’t go back to the Shire?”  
  
“I travel south to Rohan right after the battle,” Bilbo answered with an indulgent smile, “Met up with my…friend in Edoras.”  
  
“I thought hobbit never leave the Shire,” Fili stated with a questioning tone.  
  
“Because I’m not a hobbit, Master Dwarf,” a low voice suddenly joined their conversation.  
  
Fili and Kili started while Bilbo turned his head and smiled at his companion. The hobbit gestured at the tall, dark-haired male behind him. “He is a Dunedain ranger. Just call him Hunter.”  
  
The dwarf princes took in their hobbit’s friend with narrowed eyes. During their journey, Bilbo never said anything about this Hunter. Bilbo told many stories about the Shire, his large extended family, hobbits custom, and the few friends he had in the Shire. However, there was nothing about a friend from the race of Man.  
  
“Hunter? You never told us about him, Bilbo,” Kili asked curiously.  
  
Arathorn answered before Bilbo could get a word in, “It’s because he is too paranoid, unlikely as it sounds for a hobbit.”  
  
Both princes looked confused and a little hurt at the implication that Bilbo didn’t trust them. They were sure Bilbo never told any of the others either or they would have heard about it. They had even went to the Shire and asked around in their attempt to find the hobbit. They checked with every name the hobbit had told them in his stories.  
“What do you…,” Kili started to ask but Bilbo cut him with a sharp, “Enough.”  
  
The dwarves turned wide eyes to him while Arathorn merely looked exasperated. Bilbo sighed and softened the edge in his voice, “I’m sorry, boys. That was too harsh. In exchange, how about I tell you about my time in Rohan?”  
  
***  
  
"You are late."  
  
Both Princes winced when Dwalin stepped out from the shadow casted by the pillar next to the door. The older dwarf had a fearsome glare fixed on his face. Kili shuffled his feet sulkily while Fili stepped forward calmly. The blond thanked Mahal for the lessons on court politics and his Uncle's insistence on masking feelings in public.  
  
"We met someone at the market and lost track of the time," Fili answered with fond smile lighting his face as he remembered their reunion with Bilbo.  
  
"You are lucky it's time for dinner." Or Thorin will have your head right now, was registered by the young dwarves.  
  
With his message delivered, Dwalin stomped away to the dining room where faint voices could be heard. Fili and Kili obediently followed a few steps behind. The elation from seeing their hobbit dampened a little at the prospect of their Uncle's impending lecture. They were supposed to attend the meeting with King Bard and Thranduil.  
  
"Oh, there you are. Thorin is furious you didn't come to the meeting," Bofur told them with inappropriate amount of cheer.  
  
The Princes shuddered in fear and sent twin pleading looks at their mother. It was blissfully ignored as Dis turned to talk with Dori about his new teahouse. Fili and Kili looked at each other and came to a silent agreement to tell the others about Bilbo. Hopefully, before their Uncle exploded on them.  
  
Their chance came not five minutes into dinner when Thorin himself asked them what they had been doing all day. Complete with a death glare, clenched fist, and a short rant about 'that bastard tree-shagger'. They waited until the rant subsided to announce their news.  
  
"We met Bilbo at the market," Kili finally blurted out. He was almost bouncing in his seat with excitement.  
  
Sudden silence enveloped the room as the others stared at the Princes in various states of shock and surprise. Then, just as sudden, they were clamoring with questions. Fili and Kili glanced at their Uncle who had gone still as a statue, but his eyes flashed with hope and trepidation. The brothers understand the feelings well enough.  
  
"Quiet," Thorin's low voice projected throughout the room and everyone bit back their questions.  
  
Silence once again reigned in the room, until Balin shattered it with the most diplomatic statement. "I didn't know King Bard invites Bilbo for the celebration."  
  
It was stated as a question, and better than other questions floating in everyone's head. Isn't Bilbo dead? Where had he been if he was alive all this time?  
  
"King Bard didn't invite him. How could he?" Kili scoffed, "Only Gandalf knew where Bilbo had gone off to."  
  
There was a collective flinch at the reminder of the wizard's justified fury on the behalf of the hobbit. Gandalf hadn't wasted any time leaving Erebor behind and he never once stepped foot inside the mountain. Just like with Bilbo, the dwarves haven't seen hide or hair of Gandalf since the battle five years ago.  
  
"Did you tell Mister Baggins he is welcomed in Erebor?" Dis' voice cut through the gloomy atmosphere.  
  
"Of course we did," Kili looked offended.  
  
"But Bilbo insisted on leaving after the celebration," Fili added with a frown.  
  
"It's that Man's fault!" Kili burst indignantly, "Did you see how Bilbo agreed to everything he said? And how he loomed behind Bilbo all through our conversation?"  
  
Fili looked a little exasperated at his brother's clear jealousy but the damage has been done. The Princes found themselves pinned by twelve pairs of eyes ranging from curious to angry. Fili shifted uneasily in his seat. Unlike his brother, he didn’t let his jealousy guided his actions because he noticed how close and protective Bilbo was with the Man. He thought Bilbo will choose the Man over them if he was forced to. He chanced a glance at his Uncle and wondered if there was a chance for his Uncle.  
  
Fili thought more tact was needed and decided to do the explanation before Kili could make everything worse. “He is Bilbo’s friend. His name is Hunter.”  
  
“I doubt that’s his real name,” Nori commented calculatingly, “Is he a criminal or something?”  
  
“Wouldn’t surprise me if he is,” Kili muttered darkly.  
  
Fili kicked him under the table and inwardly groaned. He had to diffuse this. Fast.  
  
“I don’t think he is a criminal, Nori. There’s just something about him…” he faltered as he remembered the quiet confidence the Man radiated, “He is like a noble. Not the kind of those fat, human nobles either.”  
  
Kili was silent after he heard FIli’s opinion. Despite his jealousy, he could see it too. The Man acted like their Uncle, only without the hair-triggered temper. And that just made it bitterer, because how could they compare with someone like that?  
  
“Where is he from?” Ori asked curiously, “Where did they meet?”  
  
“We don’t know where he came from, but I think he traveled a lot. Bilbo met him in the Shire years ago, and he was in Rohan when Bilbo went to him five years ago.” Fili winced when he saw the pain in his Uncle’s eyes. That could be phrased better.  
  
“You mean they had been together for the last five years?” Dwalin scowled at his plate.  
  
“Tell us about this Man,” Thorin ordered quietly. His eyes pinned on his older nephew with frightening intensity.  
  
“Um… ah, that is… We don’t know anything about him,” Kili mumbled at the table.  
  
“What Kili means is that we don’t know much about him. What we told you is everything we know. Bilbo mostly told us about his travel, the places he went to the last five years,” Fili explained.  
  
“It’s not like Bilbo would have told us even if we asked,” Kili muttered irritably.  
  
“What do you mean?” Bofur asked with a note of concern, “Did this Hunter forbid Bilbo to tell you anything?”  
  
“It is the opposite actually,” Fili answered with a helpless shrug, “Bilbo didn’t let us ask anything about the man. He either ignored our questions or cut us off before we could ask anything.”  
  
“Mr. Baggins seems really protective of this Hunter. He never told any of you about this Man during your journey?” Dis asked curiously.  
  
The silence answered the question for her. The dwarves glanced at each other and almost everyone took a subtle glance at their silent King. Everyone – even the most recluse dwarf in Erebor – knew about Thorin’s feeling for the hobbit. Bilbo was Thorin’s One. For this kind of news be the one he heard after years of no contact, it was a blow.  
  
A sudden noise from Bombur drew everyone attention to the burly dwarf. He sheepishly answered the silent question, “I just remember a conversation I overheard between Bilbo and Gandalf. It was that first night we met Bilbo after everyone were asleep. I was hungry and went to the pantry to find something.”

_Flashback_

_He slowed his steps when he heard muffled voices from behind one of the closed door. He remembered that door led to the study. Who was inside at this time?  
“…sure you don’t… want you…” Bombur recognized the wizard’s grave voice filtering through the wood.  
  
He couldn’t register the hobbit’s answer but the irritation was clear in his voice. The argument continued and the longer it went, the louder it became. Bombur shifted uneasily but his curiosity kept him in place. Inwardly, he apologized to the hobbit for eavesdropping on his private conversation.  
  
“He never meant for you to wait here forever for him, Bilbo Baggins. You know that. A Dunedain lives far longer than a hobbit and we don’t know when or if he will come back to the Shire,” Gandalf’s tone was reproachful.  
  
“I have to be here when he need me, Gandalf! I swore my loyalty to him! He is my friend and Lord.” The hobbit’s agitated voice cut through Gandalf’s.  
  
The silence that followed was filled with tension. Bombur could feel it from outside the room. Not long after, he heard Bilbo apologized quietly and Gandalf’s tired voice responded. The conversation after that was too quiet to be heard and Bombur left soon after._

_End Flashback_

“Dunedain, you said?” Balin asked with a thoughtful frown, “I think I heard something about that before.”  
  
“Oh! Aren’t they the Rangers of the North?” Ori commented, “They are descendants from the people of Arnor. They took to wandering after the fall of Arnor.”  
  
“Arnor, you said? Ah, right,” Balin’s face cleared, “I heard about them at the Green Dragon when we first arrived in the Shire. I was curious how the place could be so peaceful and the barkeep said they were protected by the Dunedain rangers.”  
  
“So, hobbits served these Dunedain in return for protection?” Dwalin asked darkly.  
  
Balin shook his head before the others have the chance to say anything. “Most hobbits don’t even know about their protector.”  
  
“Then why did Bilbo call one of them his Lord?” Kili muttered resentfully.  
  
Everyone was silent until Thorin broke it by rising from his seat. He swept out of the room without saying anything. The others watched him go with varying degree of sadness.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Three sharp knocks on the door to their rented room stopped Bilbo in his writing. He gave Arathorn a questioning look and received a negative shake of his head. Bilbo slipped from the bed and made his way to the door after securing a small knife into his sleeve. He heard a soft rustle of fabric as Arathorn shifted in his seat by the window. No doubt the ranger was ready with his own weapon.  
  
When he opened the door cautiously, what he found at the other side was unexpected. Bilbo stared at the dwarf before him. Of all members of his old Company, he least expected this visitor.  
  
“Ah… King Thorin. Good evening,” Bilbo greeted tentatively.  
  
“Mister Baggins,” Thorin nodded stiffly.  
  
Awkward silence fell between them as both didn’t know what they should say to the other. They didn’t part on good terms. Both felt guilt and regret for what happened years ago and both didn’t know what to do to repair their broken friendship. They didn’t even know if the other wanted to repair it.  
  
Bilbo shifted his feet and avoided meeting the dwarf’s clear blue eyes. Last time he saw it, those orbs were dark with fury and madness. He still remembered it as clear as that fateful day. It had haunted his dream for some time.  
  
“Bilbo, aren’t you going to invite him inside?” Arathorn’s faintly amused voice pierced through his melancholy.  
  
Bilbo started and threw a glare over his shoulder. His friend could be such a meddling bastard. When he turned back to Thorin, the dwarf was frowning into the room.  
Bilbo cleared his throat and blue eyes immediately snapped back to him. “Would you like to…”  
  
“What is your plan for tomorrow, Mister Baggins?” Thorin cut him before he could finish the question.  
  
“Tomorrow?” Bilbo blinked in confusion and turned to Arathorn, “Hunter, what are we…”  
  
“I ask you. Why are you asking him?” Thorin growled lowly and it took everything to hold back the urge to shake the hobbit.  
  
Kili was right. Bilbo deferred to the Man’s words. The hobbit never followed him without question or complains on the whole journey to Erebor, even before…before the Arkenstone. Was Bombur right then? The Man was Bilbo’s so called Lord? Why would a hobbit have a Man for Lord?  
  
Bilbo was surprised by the outburst, but confusion turned quickly into annoyance. He glared at the infuriating dwarf.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know… maybe because he is my partner,” Bilbo answered sarcastically.  
  
Thorin flinched like he had been slapped. The anger drained out of him, leaving only hurt and disappointment coiling in his chest. His One had a partner, and there was no one to blame but himself.  
  
“Are you alright?” Bilbo frowned worriedly, his annoyance forgotten at the King’s reaction.  
  
The dwarf looked pale in the dim light of the hallway and he was shaking lightly, although the most worrying sight was his eyes. The ever present passion was gone and in its place was an empty look that almost made the hobbit shuddered. That’s not a look he thought he would ever see on the King’s face.  
  
“King Thorin…” Bilbo trailed off uncertainly. What should he say? Should he apologize? Surely it’s not because of his words. He had said worse things on their quest!  
  
“I apologize, Mister Baggins. I do not have any right to question you,” Thorin finally forced out the words with difficulty, “Have a good evening.”  
  
His feet felt like they were made of lead as he moved it to walk away. Coldness seeped throughout his body and he had to concentrate hard to ignore the haze clouding his mind. There was a faint voice telling to turn back to his hobbit and beg for his forgiveness.  
  
The hand grasping his arm was unexpected but his body welcomed it. Warmth pulsing through the point of contact, chasing away the cold and focusing his mind on that single point. A shaky breath – almost sobs – left his lungs and passed his lips. Slowly, he registered the sound of words in that familiar, much missed voice.  
  
“…inside.” He just caught the end of the sentence and winced. What a horrible impression he must have given his One. Being so rude earlier and now completely ignoring his words.  
  
The hand around his arm tugged insistently and he obediently followed. He would do anything to keep that hand where it was.  
  
“Sit here. You look like you are going to fall over anytime.”  
  
Bilbo pushed the dwarf to sit on the bed nearest the door. A worried frown marred his face when Thorin let himself being manhandled without resistance. The dwarf he knew was too stubborn for that. He threw a glance at Arathorn, silently asking for help, only to notice the other’s empty seat and opened window. He gritted his teeth. Damn ranger.  
  
He turned his attention back to the unresponsive dwarf. “Thorin, please answer me. What’s wrong? Is it something I said? Are you ill? Do you need something?”  
  
Bilbo bit his lip anxiously when Thorin still didn’t say anything. Maybe he should inform the others? Didn’t Kili say they are staying in Bard’s guest house?  
  
“Stay here. I will bring back Balin or Dwalin.” He started to move away when his hand was suddenly caught in an iron grip.  
  
“Don’t go,” Thorin gasped, “Not again.”  
  
Bilbo felt his jaw dropped open in surprise. His mind ground to a halt and he stared blankly at the appendage holding him hostage. A tiny seed of hope grew in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who wanted to repair their friendship.  
  
“Alright, I’m not going anywhere,” Bilbo agreed quietly and then added firmly, “But you have to tell me what set you off.”  
  
Throin winced and his mind scrambled for an excuse. For a few, crazy moment, he considered telling the truth. That Bilbo was his One, and he was the most stupid dwarf on Arda for letting go of his most precious treasure. But no, that would only scare the hobbit away.  
  
“I…” Thorin tried but the words stuck in his throat. His heart pounded loudly in his chest and he was afraid Bilbo could hear it.  
  
“Thorin, please calm down. You are hyperventilating,” Bilbo whispered soothingly. His hand automatically went up to rest on the broad shoulder and stroked it in a circular motion.  
  
Thorin looked away in shame from the hobbit’s concern stare. He couldn’t even answer a simple question without going into panic. It was no wonder his One found comfort in someone else.  
  
A tired sigh pulled him from his wandering thought and he winced. When he looked back at the hobbit, he was met with an exasperated look and a hint of fondness in the upward twitch of pale pink lips. It was a familiar expression and that gave him hope for their future relationship – friendship if not more.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Getting those words out lighten the crushing pressure in his chest. The words after that were easier to say and everything spilled out like an overflow river. “I shouldn’t have raised a hand to harm you and your banishment was a mistake. I thought I was strong enough to resist the gold madness but I wasn’t and I was just like my father and grandfather. I almost lost my sister sons and I did lose you. I lifted the banishment but you were nowhere to be found and you never came back.”  
  
Bilbo could only stared at the distraught King as the longest speech he ever heard from the usually reticent dwarf fell from those lips. Shock was only putting his feeling mildly; he almost had a heart attack on the spot. Especially when halfway through his apologies, tears slid down the dwarf’s cheeks although Thorin didn’t seem to notice it. Bilbo raised his hand to touch the pale cheek and wipe the wet trail disappearing into the short beard.  
  
By the time Thorin finished pouring his heart out, only then he realized the position they were in. The hobbit’s palm was warm against his cheek and he was leaning into it like a plant seeking the sunlight. He gulped and slowly inched away from the warmth but it followed him and then Bilbo was talking.  
  
“I, too, should apologize. I will never regret taking the Arkenstone to prevent war but I’m sorry it has to come to that.”  
  
“No. You don’t have to apologize. The fault lied with me,” Thorin immediately disagreed, “If I wasn’t... My actions forced you to do it. I remember you talking to me, warning me against what I did, but I didn’t heed it.”  
  
Bilbo tilted up Thorin’s head and responded firmly, “I made my choice, Thorin. It was as much my fault. I know you will be angry, especially with the gold madness guiding your actions. I did it anyway.”  
  
Thorin shuddered under those penetrating stare and averted his eyes with a blush. Above him, Bilbo took in his unusual reaction with slight confusion. The dwarf looked like a hobbit lass with her crush. The passing thought made him went still with shock.  
  
“Thorin, do you have a crush on me?” The question slipped out before he could sensor it and he snapped his mouth shut as soon as they left his lips.  
  
He flustered for a bit, trying to find something to smooth everything out, but one look at the dwarf stopped him dead. Thorin was staring at him wide-eyed. The blue pools of his eyes filled with astonishment and fear. Well, if those eyes didn’t just confirm everything, the hobbit didn’t know what will.  
  
“When?” Bilbo asked quietly.  
  
Thorin clenched his hands in the fabric of his tunic and tried to keep his voice even but knew he was failing horribly. “Since Bag End.”  
  
“Oh…” Bilbo breathed out with slight dismay, “It’s not a crush”.  
  
Thorin merely shook his head resignedly with his head bowed and shoulders hunched. Black hair with silver streaks hid his face like curtain of liquid obsidian. He was clearly waiting for a rejection, Bilbo thought with a wince. He would have, if he didn’t know anything about dwarf and their One. Travelling with a bunch of dwarves for nearly a year would have taught anyone about that bond. Gloin alone could wax poetic about his wife – his One – more often than anyone could take.  
  
Bilbo gently threaded his fingers through the thick dark hair. “I think I can fall in love with you. If that is what you wish.”  
  
Thorin let out a soft whimper and slowly turned his head up. His wide eyes were glistening with unshed tears and hope.  
  
“Please.”  
  
Bilbo felt warmth curled below his stomach at the strained whisper. He placed his hand on the back of Thorin’s neck and guided his head until their lips met. The lips below him were soft and pliant and opened easily to admit his exploring tongue. He readily used the unvoiced permission to map out the hot cavern.  
  
A moan tore out of Thorin’s throat and his arms came around Bilbo’s shoulders. Mahal, he didn’t know kissing could feel like this. He had never had a lover because he had his duty as King of an exiled people. Faintly he wondered if Bilbo could feel his inexperience and that bring him to the question of Bilbo’s own experience. Had he done this with anyone else?  
  
The thought was a sobering one and he involuntarily drew back sharply. What had he done? Bilbo had a partner. Did Bilbo just want him as a…a fling? The possibility sent a sharp pain through his heart.  
  
“Thorin, what is it?” Bilbo asked softly as he ran his hand down the wavy locks.  
  
“I-I’m sorry…but… You… I just… I don’t want to be an affair,” Thorin pleaded in a strained voice.  
  
“Excuse me?” Bilbo stared in bewilderment. Beneath all the surprise and confusion, he could feel indignation creeping in.  
  
“You are… You have a partner, that Man,” Thorin answered bitterly.  
  
Bilbo choked on the laugh bubbling up in his throat and let out undignified giggles instead. He managed to say between giggles, “I didn’t mean romantic partner, you silly dwarf.”  
  
Thorin reddened with embarrassment but also felt utter relief at the correction. He still had a chance with his One even after everything he had done.  
  
“Are you alright now?” Bilbo asked with a trace of laughter in his voice, “Can we continue our earlier activity?”  
  
Thorin barely had the time to nod before a pair of lips connected with his and a tongue pried opened his mouth. His eyes closed and he tentatively battled the invading appendage. The feeling of the slick, hot muscles plundering his mouth sent jolts of pleasure to his nether region. After a moment which felt like hours, they separated for air and stared into each other eyes. Thorin just then realized there was soft mattress against his back and a knee between his thighs.  
  
“B-Bilbo,” Thorin panted when the other pressed his knee against his groin.  
  
Bilbo smiled with a wicked glint in his eyes and lowered his head to kiss the junction between Thorin’s neck and shoulder. A gasp escaped the King and he reflexively bared his throat. Bilbo continued to alternately kiss and suck lightly at the spot for some time while his hands were busy stripping the dwarf of his cumbersome shirt. He lightly tweaked the exposed nipple and revered the moan that followed.  
  
He chuckled against Thorin’s neck. “You are so sensitive, lover. It’s like this is your first time.”  
  
He blinked at the sudden stillness that came over the dwarf and raised his head to look at the dwarf’s face. Thorin was worrying his lip and staring at him with wide-eyed apprehension.  
  
“Thorin, you…” Bilbo faltered as the implication sunk in, “Have you ever done this?”  
  
Thorin shook his head once and asked hesitantly, “Is it a problem?”  
  
Bilbo registered the fear behind the question and quickly set to reassure him, “No, of course not. It’s just unexpected.”  
  
He rested his palm against Thorin’s cheek said softly, “I’m honored you choose me.”  
  
“I’m glad you accept me,” Thorin replied with a shy smile.  
  
The next few minutes was a blur of movements for Thorin as Bilbo unbuttoned his tunic while sucking his throat and grounding their clothed member together. He could only cling to the hobbit as pleasure flooded his sense. The next thing he knew, a callous finger brushed over his right nipple gently. It jolted him out of the pleasured haze because it sent a spark straight into his hardened cock. The finger moved to his left nipple and a heartbeat later, the abandoned nipple was taken into a hot mouth. Wet tongue lapped at it and teeth scraped lightly against it.  
  
Bilbo smiled at the moans and whimpers he coaxed out of Thorin and his hand idly crept lower until he reached Thorin’s waistband. He made quick and silent work of the leather belt. It took him some time to work out the mechanism of the buckle and he thanked the Green Lady for giving him nimble fingers. Finally, he firmly grasped the hard cock and tugged it out of its confine.  
  
“Oh!” Thorin shuddered at the unfamiliar warmth of Bilbo’s hand around his erection and he unconsciously thrust up.  
  
Bilbo placed his free hand on Thorin’s hip to restrain him. “Eager, are we?”  
  
“Bilbo, please…” Thorin whimpered helplessly.  
  
“Tell me what you want, lover,” Bilbo whispered invitingly as his right hand lazily rubbed Thorin’s cock up and down, “Do you want my hand? Or would you prefer my mouth?”  
  
Thorin took a ragged breath. His eyes were dark and blown wide. His cheeks flushed a light red above his beard. He licked his lips and stared into hypnotizing hazel eyes.  
“I… I don’t…” he gulped and said hoarsely, “Your mouth. Please.”  
  
“As you wish,” Bilbo murmured quietly then slid lower until he reached the erection leaking with a bit of precum.  
  
He nuzzled the coarse hair at the base of the cock and breathed in the intoxicating musky smell. He savored it for a moment before licking his way from the base to the top. His tongue brushed over the slit a few times.  
  
Thorin inhaled sharply as his eyes was riveted on Bilbo’s mouth and the tongue flicking out of it. He let out a startled sound when Bilbo blew a warm breath against the slit. His hip bucked against the press of Bilbo’s hands. His hands unconsciously grasped the sheet beneath him.  
  
“M-more…please…” he pleaded.  
  
Bilbo felt a spike of arousal at the raw need in that low timbre voice. He obeyed wordlessly and took the tip of Thorin’s cock into his mouth. His hand went to circle the base of the cock, and then he started to move. He swallowed more of the thick cock while his hand rubbed up and down in a slow rhythm. His teeth lightly scraped the thick muscle.  
  
“H-hnn…” Thorin screwed his eyes closed and his hands twisted the sheet.  
  
Bilbo watched the dwarf’s face intently, arousal pooled in his belly with every sound coming from his lover. He changed his pace from slow to fast and back, keeping Thorin from reaching the peak. His other hand came up to fondle the balls. He ignored Thorin’s pleads for release for some time. The dwarf’s unusually unguarded expression was fascinating. Finally, he took the dwarf deep into his throat then hummed. At the same time, his grip tightened around the balls.  
  
“Ahh!” Thorin cried out as he came into Bilbo’s waiting mouth.  
  
Bilbo swallowed the salty and bitter liquid, and licked the limp cock clean. He looked at Thorin and smiled at the picture he was met with. The dwarf was beautiful with his dark hair forming a halo around his head, his eyes dark with arousal, and his lips slightly parted. Bilbo braced his arms besides Thorin’s head and kissed him passionately.  
They parted after some time and Thorin said softly, “I love you.”  
  
Bilbo smiled a bit stiffly at the confession and replied apologetically, “I can’t answer that, Thorin. Not yet.”  
  
“I can accept that,” Thorin smiled tentatively and added hesitantly, “Bilbo, my people… We don’t… There shouldn’t be any intercourse before marriage.”  
  
“I know,” Bilbo chuckled, “I did travel with thirteen dwarrows for nearly a year. Speaking of them, we will have to tell them about us.”  
  
“We do, don’t we?” Thorin groaned softly.  
  
“That is for tomorrow. Right now, we are going to sleep,” Bilbo declared firmly, “And you are staying here.”


End file.
